The day before the funeral, we were busy preparing the flower arrangements. Beautiful pink roses in long green leaves, tied with ribbons of grass. As urbanwarrior took the fig leaves out to dry, I took some close up shots of the bouquets. I was thinking of his grandmother and her irradiated smile – us as we lit sparklers in her treasured garden on New Year’s Eve. Lost in quiet sadness, I lied one of them down between some candles. It was then that I noticed a tiny shell. A snail! Completely unaware of her fate she appeared from her translucent home and stretched herself out, her elongated tentacles searching the air, as though convinced that the familiar rose bush was only just out of reach. I took her outside and brought her to the blossoming bougainville, hoping she would feel at home there. Safe and hallowed.